Dark Embrace
by kdthree
Summary: A new and more dark version of the Goa'uld is found and Jack experiences this first hand
1. Default Chapter

TITLE : "Dark Embrace"

AUTHOR : KD3 aka KRISS DREMAK

STATUS : complete (sequel planned)

CATEGORY : gen/het/angst/horror/hurt comfort

WARNING : sexual situations / some language

PAIRING : hinted at

SEASON : Four or thereabouts.

RATING : PG13 possibly R

SPOILERS : A Matter of Time, Secrets, Shades of Gray, Hathor

SUMMARY : Jack falls victim

ARCHIVED : (SG1 H/C Zone nc17 location)

FILE SIZE : 84.1kd

Comments This is the PG-13 version. If you would like to have the

NC17 version drop me a note

* * *

Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE. The characters mentioned in this story are the property of and Gekko Film Corp. The SG-1 together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp., Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This Fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

The next mission was to P3x 666 and the numbers should have been an omen if one was superstitious or heavy into The Book of Revelations. From the moment they stepped out of the gate and onto the planet the entire team felt there was something dark and cursed about it. Even in full sunlight there seemed to be oppressiveness to the mountainous terrain. The probes had revealed a well-established village near by which Daniel thought to be medieval European possibly Germanic or Slavic in origin. Their appearance was greeted with what they had become accustomed to: shock, awe, and confusion that they were not gods but, this time there was something else and Jack sensed it.

"Daniel, ask the nice people about their gods and when they were here last." His thumb was resting on the safety of his P-90. As a rule he didn't really give a damn about the religious beliefs of a culture but there was something tickling that little warning spot between his shoulder blades that made him want to set C-4 charges and get out of Dodge. Sam and Daniel both looked at their leader and friend with questions frozen on their lips; Teal'c, however, was clutching his staff weapon loosely, ready to swing it into action. He shared a look with Jack that immediately acknowledged that he too felt something, that something that usually preceded being shot at or worse.

Daniel, having met the village spokesman, a young man about his own age called Ivanyn, began to get a history of the village. Jack and Teal'c took a step away from the fact-finding and both scanned the horizon. With his binoculars Jack had zoomed in on a structure which jutted out from the side of the mountain like a series of minaret shaped peaks forming a nightmarish castle straight out of a Tim Burton movie. It did; however, seem to have a central structure that was pyramid in shape. It's burnished metal or stone covering seeming to absorb light rather than reflect Castle 666, as Jack had mentally nicknamed it, loomed over the village like a vulture waiting for road kill, keeping it in a perpetual shadow. A steep path of cobblestone led to its front entrance. It was well fortified but showed no sign of being occupied. Before they could investigate further, Sam and Daniel and their new friend urged them to come to his home and share food and shelter for the night. The offer was accepted.

"So Jack, these people, the Rusno as they call themselves, I think they came from somewhere in the Slavic countries. This means they came through the second gate in Antarctica. The culture seems to be medieval, I would hazard a guess about eight to eleventh century, pre-gun powder and has evolved to about a Middle Ages level of technology. They are agrarian and have a highly developed trading arrangement with other villages within and up to a months ride away." Daniel was about ready to go off on one of his long dissertations but Jack and Teal'c were not in the mood.

"Their gods Daniel Jackson, what of their gods?" Teal'c demanded none too subtly.

"Any Goa'uld in their past, or present?" Jack sipped some of the local tea and tore off a hunk of dark bread from the platter laid out in front of them.

"Ivanyn tells me well the only thing is... "Daniel was hesitating.

"Spit it out Jackson."

"That their life are relatively normal but for the occasional visit by the inhabitants of the castle. Ivanyn says the castle on the mountain is the home of a demon or demons." Daniel punctuated his sentence with a hard swallow.

"Demons?" Jack queried back sarcastically. "Do these demons have glowing eyes?"

"Well, no one has lived to give many details and those who have apparently have run into the demons are found near death and totally mad These people rant incoherently and die shortly after being found." Daniel hung his head waiting for a blast from Jack.

"Well kids, you two better find some other reason for us to keep this

planet in the Stargate Travel guide book, maybe naquedah, trinium something huh? If not we re not going to be booking a return visit and I'm only going to give it one star for the food. "Jack was gentle with his admonishment but something was just not right and he didn't want to telegraph his as yet unsubstantiated paranoia.

Ivanyn returned with a platter of steaming meats which looked like chicken and possibly lamb and set them down on the large rough hewn table.

"You must stay the night. I have rooms for you and then in the morning we can talk more."

"Well maybe we will just eat and get back to the gate..." Jack started.

"No! You must not travel at night!" Ivanyn yelped his hand shaking and the platter landed heavily

"Sir, it would give us more time to survey the planet for potential sources of . . . ." Sam started.

"Anything viable or valuable, right Major? Okay, looks like we stay the night. Thank you Ivanyn." Jack smiled one of his more half-hearted smiles that accompanied his doing something he didn't agree with, it was better to travel in the daylight so his reluctance was unfounded.

"Perhaps we should check the perimeter before darkness settles for possible threats." Teal'c raised an eyebrow to Jack.

"You two get us settled in Teal'c and I are going to give the village a once over before we retire for the night." A threat assessment was always a good thing.

Sam and Daniel followed Ivanyn to the back portion of the house and were shown several rooms; each was no larger than a cell with a simple single bed and a small bedside table with an oil lamp.

"All homes have rooms such as these for the travelers or for any who are not near enough to their own residences when the night comes." Ivanyn explained. "Do not open the windows. The lamp will burn till morning."

Their host left them to discuss what they had discovered so far.

"Daniel I'm a woman of science but I have to tell this place gives me the creeps." Sam was pacing the small room that had been designated for Daniel.

"Are you sensing any Goa'uld presence or anything?" Daniel asked knowing that ever since Sam had been the host of the Tok'ra Jolinar that she had the ability to sense Goa'ulds.

"No, nothing likes that, I mean I know these times on earth were called the Dark Ages but there is just something, odd. I mean Ivanyn won't go out after dark, all of these houses he says have rooms for anyone to run to if they are caught outside at darkness, and you have to admit that is weird." Sam was rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

"Well, actually the Middle Ages but there could be many factors involved. Many legends out of the Slavic countries, I am having a hard time remembering any in particular right now , maybe just about the Nocnitsa, the Night Hag in Russian, Polish, Serbian. . . ."

"Oh, cute hags and what else boogey men?" Sam cut him off and sat down

heavily next to him giving him a frosty look.

Daniel began to inspect the candles and the furniture.

Jack and Teal'c were starting to strain to see as twilight was deepening into night. They were only a few houses away from Ivanyn's when something flew out of shadows and fluttered into Jack.

"Jeez! What the hell was that?" He yelled batting away the attacker.

"A nocturnal creature of some sort?" Teal'c pondered as he watched the other houses as the rest of the villagers scurried behind closed doors. Shutters were closed and doors locked. "We should be inside."

"Ya think?" Jack barked as he raised a hand to his face. "Damn thing bit me" His fingers were stained with his blood which he wiped off on his pants.

Once inside Ivanyn showed them their rooms. Jack took the first watch but not before letting Carter apply a bandage to the gash on his left cheek. The wound didn't appear deep but it was bleeding steadily. The first bandage was almost immediately saturated. Sam went to the medical kit and pulled out several butterfly bandages. This time the wound pulled closed the blood flow stopped.

"You have a clotting problem sir?" She asked, worried.

"Nope, clot real well! Stop futzing." Jack batted her hand away playfully. "Sam, you have next watch, Daniel and then Teal'c. I'm taking first and last watches. You'll have to 1300 hours tomorrow to determine if this planet has anything of value. If not we go back to the gate and we can send SG-9 back for the treaty work. "

He didn't wait for them to protest but went out to the main living room which gave him full view of the hallway leading to the guest quarters and the only other entrance. Ivanyn had supplied a hot drink that resembled a strong tea and he sipped it during his watch. It was quiet, extremely quiet.

There was a rustling from outside the door as if something was scratching to get in. Jack was in full alert. His footfalls were barely perceptible from years of living in boots one learned how to step lightly. He was at the door easing the bolt up, wishing he had night vision goggles he stepped out into the darkness. The zat bolt hit before he had both feet out the door. Jack collapsed in a convulsing lump of pain on the threshold.

"Do not damage this one," the words spoken more than a hiss than actual

words. "Our mistress is desirous of this one, intact."

Two black clad Jaffa picked up the struggling O'Neil another disarmed him quickly. Before he could call out the speaker raised a hand and activated a ribbon device. Already weakened from the zat blast Jack succumbed quickly.

End Chapter one.....


	2. Dark Embrace Chapter two

**Dark Embrace - Chapter Two **

Sam woke with a start wondering if she had heard something. Glancing at her watch she realized it was more than twenty minutes into her watch. The Colonel should have awakened her already. He was always precise and timely.

She grabbed her P-90 and went out to the main room. There was no sign of him or a struggle.

"Colonel?" She questioned the quiet, thinking he might be somewhere else in the lodge, but she received no response. Teal'c and a sleepy Daniel joined her.

"I thought I heard a ring transporter outside my window." Daniel mumbled yawning "Where's Jack?"

"I don't know." Sam was trying to contain her panic.

"If he went outside he is gone." The forlorn voice of Ivanyn whimpered. "The black guards of the Obyri have him now. You can do nothing for him."

"You mean until morning? Don't you?" Daniel asked.

"He maybe lost to you. They always take the ones they deem the strongest, the ones that can threaten them." He went to his front door and replaced the latch." Go to your beds and pray for him. "Shaking his head, he left them, to return to the safety of his own room.

"What is that word Daniel Jackson?"

"Obyri?" I don't know but it sounds familiar, old archaic Slavic tongue. "I just hope it doesn't mean what I think it might."

* * *

Jack woke instantly. It was dark, very dark and his entire body was one massive tingling ache. He had been zatted. He remembered that clearly. Trying to move, his limbs were leaden, almost as if he was pinned down, down on something soft. Maybe he was blind, just seemed to be no light or objects to fix on. He couldn't even see his own body.

A gentle hand touched the side of his face and he flinched.

"It's alright sir. Be still." The words were softly spoken and the

tone familiar.

"Carter?" His own voice was a raspy whisper.

"Don't try to talk sir. You've been injured, just lay still. I will take care of you." Her fingers touched the gash on his cheek.

That was all fine and dandy but he had to move, to get up and check himself out for, well himself. This darkness and immobility screamed danger signals to him, trapped, caught, prisoner.

"We're alone." Her soft voice continued thickening into more of a purr, her warm breath against his ear. Her lips were touching the lobe.

Jack's eyes adjusted further to the darkness, now able to make out Sam's profile. Her scent filled his nostrils and he wondered how she always managed to smell so fresh and female.

"Ahh Carter?" He whispered.

"We are alone."

"Ahh, Carter Whatcha doing?" He needed to move to stop her but the sudden sensation of her body against his distracted him from realities.

"Be silent."

"Sam, we can't" Jack gasped as her hand brushed against the front of his pants. Her mouth was on his.

"Major!" He gasped still trying to stop the pleasure he felt as her tongue traced a long languid trail down from his throat.

Her hands seemed to be everywhere at once. He was making love to Carter, his second in command, to Sam. How long had he wanted her and now he had her.

"Now! Jack now!" She demanded.

He felt her mouth on his neck, kissing, licking and then, unable to restrain himself Jack let go. The pleasure was joined by pain, searing, tearing pain at the base of his throat. The initial pain so intense it seemed to press him down, embed him where he lay yet with the pleasure he felt it blended into a carnal baseness. Her mouth was on his throat, sucking and lapping up his strength. The darkness was deepening, haloed with red and purple the indicators of the onset of unconsciousness.

And then it stopped and her lips were pressing against his own. Sam's lips were tinted crimson. Her tongue filled his mouth, and he could taste blood, his own blood, and he greedily drank from her lips. Jack's mind screamed as his body betrayed him aggressively wanting more, more of her love making, the pain, and pleasure.

Spent to exhaustion, she rolled him over onto his back, her tongue laving his throat. Sam lifted herself from him. The face that momentarily hovered over him smiled with blood smeared lips. The eyes glowed.

"No." Jack gasped as mercifully he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

The rest of SG-1 could not sleep. The morning could not come fast enough. Daniel was a study of concentration. He thought he knew the word OBYRI and the idea of the translation was frightening. Jack had faced many foes but this one could be his undoing and the potential consequences were too horrible to contemplate. In the morning he would be relentless in his questioning of Ivanyn. He had to know, he wanted desperately to be wrong.

Teal'c placed himself into a state of Kelnoreem but it was not satisfying. His symbiote seemed agitated. While it was not the extreme agitation it had felt in the presence of a Reetou, there was the similar feeling of fear and revulsion.

Sam was pacing, there was no mathematical equation that would solve this mystery. The Colonel- Jack was missing and the ship was rudderless. She didn't know where to start but she continued to eye Daniel. He had the answer but he wasn't willing to tell them, didn't want to tell them.

"Damn it Daniel, what is it?" She finally couldn't stand it.

"Sam I don't want to say until I talk to Ivanyn again, please." His voice was apologetic.

Sam slapped her hand against her P-90 and headed for the door. "We have to find him."

Teal'c, instantly awake, moved with the grace of a leopard and imposed himself between her and the door. "When the sun has risen we will search for him. We will be of no help to O'Neill if we let the same fate befall us." Gently he rested his large warm hands on her shoulders.

There was six more hours to daylight and four had already passed. A lot could happen in ten hours.

* * *

This time he did not wake instantly but was drug from the dark embrace of unconsciousness by strong Jaffa hands. He tried to conserve what energy he had left letting himself be dragged. At least now there was light, very little, but enough to see that he was in a structure, the architecture was familiar, Goa'uld. His current captors were no doubt Jaffa and he was being taken to their "god." Who was it this time?

They arrived in what no doubt was a throne room. The only illumination was several burning braziers of glowing red coals casting a crimson cast to the room. Reminded him of Sokar's little hideaway, maybe they had the same decorator. Nothing like another ticket to Hell and he knew he had more than one left to visit.

Jack looked around the room to find several villagers of various ages and states of decay chained spread eagle to the walls. The stench of death filled his nostrils and made his stomach spasm, threatening to empty its contents. Thankfully it appeared that most of the victims were dead, but an occasional moan or minute motion proved his morbid hope to be unfounded. There was a niche on the wall waiting for him, but this was not how he planned to die.

Jack slipped in the thin coat of sticky wetness that covered the floor. Barely able to stand upright, the Jaffa forced him to his knees in front of the throne, the material of his pants beginning to dampen with the ooze. He looked up and took in the vision that rose from the seat. Naked and adorned only with a few long black gossamer strips of material which hung down the length of her body arranged to just cover the most private of areas held in place by a girdle of gold and rubies in the rabid open fanged face of a bat. A black cape flowed from her shoulders and behind her like wings of darkness. Her body was any man's fantasy but her face was that of angel, a fallen angel, the embodiment of lust, the personification of evil. The resemblance to Samantha Carter still lingered in the lips and eyes, confusing Jack's raw anger with hidden emotions. The Goa'ulds blond hair hung long and clung to her body like lover's hands.

"We are Camazotz." The Goa'uld timbre voice announced as she stepped in front of him. She ran a thin talon nailed hand through his short gray hair affectionately as if stoking her new pet. "Do you know of us my most dear one?" She didn't wait for an answer but smiled broadly revealing perfect white teeth with two exceptions, the yellowed fangs. "You will come to know us well. You are the bravest we have encountered. You taste of life and deep passion. You were the first to dominate us in lovemaking. Yes, you are worthy." Her hands were running provocatively over his chest.

"Bite me. Oh, that's right you already have." Jack smart assed trying to move out from under her touch.

"You are ours. Forever you will be ours." She stated simply. "We have fed from you and you give us life. We will not tolerate insolence." Camazotz flung up her right hand and activated the ribbon device. The ray of light centered itself in the middle of Jack's forehead. His brain felt like it was on fire. He fought the pain, been there before, let her cook him then she would have nothing.

The pain ended as quickly as it started. Jack could not collapse the Jaffa held him in place. Her hands were on him again.

"Why do you make us give you pain?"

"Well, if we aren't there already I would just like to say, go to hell lady. I know what you are." Jack retorted in cold sarcasm.

"What we are is your mistress, your lover. You can enjoy the pleasure again, and again, more than you have ever know, ecstasy beyond your simple understanding" His body betrayed him. Jack didn't need to be reminded that he had been fooled. Anger won out and he lunged for the bitch only to be thrown backwards by the force of her ribbon device.

The Jaffa gathered him up and brought him back before her. They held him as she leaned down to him. One Jaffa pushed his head to the side and she plunged her fangs into him again. The pain was mixed with a sudden desire to have her, to feel him in her again. Her lips left his neck and the blood continued to flow down his chest. Like knife blades her long nailed fingers slashed at his chest opening long gashes. Jack's breathing was ragged, each breath a chore. She licked the blood from each slash and he wanted her more. He knew tactics to fight mind control, he began to employ any and all with minor success.

"You will either die or more wisely choose to become one of our army."

"Hathor tried that crap with me before. I killed her personally." Jack somehow managed to croak out with smug satisfaction. The Jaffa clubbed him with his staff weapon. Jack could feel ribs breaking, poking into fragile lung tissues. He had to find an opening and he had to find it soon. He couldn't count on anyone finding him; there was going to be no timely rescue.

"So our sister found herself freed from the land we imprisoned her in? We thank you for ridding us of her. Now we will be free to spawn the next generations. Become one with us and live as our faithful servant." She nodded and another blow fractured his left scapula, followed quickly by the silk of her lips and warm breath on his throat.

"What part of no don't you understand?" His response was met with a butt end of a staff weapon into his face. Lightening bolts of pain struck behind his eyes followed in rapid succession by a maelstrom of agony as he heard the bones in his face cracking, shards knifing into nerves.

With glowing eyes the Goa'uld demoness began a new assault. He could feel her mouth and tongue lapping up the blood which flowed from his neck. Resistance had not gotten him anywhere perhaps if he pretended to give in he could use it to his advantage. Jack had little strength left and he needed to save it for one more chance.

"No." He moaned as she continued to feed. Jack shuddered and then forced himself to relax, to give up, give in. "Please...." He whispered.

Her mouth separated from his flesh. One hand cupped his face the other rested against his chest feeling the beating of his heart straining to circulate what blood was left in him. Again her lips came to his and forced him to taste his own blood.

"You will be our First Prime. You will be our mate, together we will claim our place in the universe and feed off those unworthy to look upon us or any who would oppose us. We will bring about a new greater generation of gods." Camazotz stroked the unshattered side of Jack's face with the tenderness of a lover. Then she raised her wrist to her mouth biting the milk white flesh, her own blood flowing freely. She pressed the wound to Jack's lips smearing it and forcing him to taste her blood.

It was now or never. Jack bolted up right forcing her away from him. In one movement he had a Jaffa down and his staff weapon in hand. The other Jaffa was caught off guard. Jack clicked the trigger and the let loose one blast. Whirling with the weapon ready he turned it on his tormentor.

"Kree!" He heard her order as he swung back and unloaded another charge.

She had shielded herself with three small children just as Ra had done so many life times ago. There was no stopping the blasts, they tore through two of the three, nearly cutting each in half, exploding their fragile immature bodies in a ball of fire.

Jack froze. The image of the murdered children forever burned in hismind and branded on his soul.

"You will always be mine, forever." Echoed the Goa'uld voice as she ring transported out of the room with her shield of children. "Always mine forever mine. "

* * *


	3. Dark Embrace Chapter Three

**Dark Embrace Chapter Three**

There was only the raw instinct to escape left; rational thought had been robbed from him. Jack ran though the hallways shooting anything that approached till he made his way to what seemed to be an entrance way. Two quick blasts of the staff weapon into a wall and daylight poured in. Staggering to the outside world he started down the path that led to the village, collapsing to his knees under the warming sun, the last of his blood staining the pathway. He could go no further but he would die in the sunlight.

* * *

Ivanyn did not want to answer the questions but Daniel and Sam were relentless. How long since the demon had arrived, had he heard a name of the demon, how could they get to the demon?

It has only been within the last three hundred years that the demon had appeared in what sounded like a Goa'uld cargo vessel. The castle was created with the labor of many villagers. Many were said to have disappeared at night and were found later drained of blood. The Goa'uld were not the ones who had brought them here or had done so and forgotten them for centuries. The only names Ivanyn had heard was past down in legends as Cymazotz.

"Cymazotz? No, the pronunciation has changed it maybe Camazotz." he was momentarily pleased with himself before realizing he was loosing grip on the objective.

"That name is known to me." Teal'c began wincing in pain. His symbiote was distressed. "It is the name of a lesser Goa'uld but one of an evil that even disgusted the other system lord. They banished her."

"What could she have done?" Sam questioned continuing to look outside, waiting for the full dawn.

"Sam, Camazotz was the Mayan bat god." Daniel explained heavily.

"Yes, the Obyri, the Wampry." Ivanyn nodded his vigorously.

"The what?" Sam gasped.

"Camazotz was represented by the vampire bat of Central and South Americas, and the word OBYRI is one of the first words every associated with the legends of the undead, Nosferatu, Vampires."

"Oh god!"

"What is a vampire?" Teal'c demanded, his symbiote agitated to the point of physical pain.

Suddenly all were distracted by the sound of distant explosion. The three were outside. A section of the castle wall exploded out and she could see a figure staggering through the gaping hole. The figure was in OD green BDU's and had silver hair.

Teal'c and Sam were on the run up the pathway.

"Daniel get to the gate and call for help." Sam screamed over her shoulder. It was almost a half a mile before they got to him.

Jack was still on his knees leaning back swaying the only thing keeping him upright was the staff weapon in his hand. He collapsed face first into the dirt just as they both skidded to a stop.

Sam tried to turn him over gently, his eyes burst open, and he pushed her away. His arms tumbled back to his chest eliciting a gasp and then a coughing spasm frothy blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. The multiple neck wounds were still seeping blood matting his torn black t-shirt to his heaving chest ribboned with jagged gashes. The left side of his face was already a purple pulp of shattered bones.

"It's alright sir. Be still" Carter tried to soothe him and calm him, but it wasn't alright. He was sweating and his skin was clammy and gray his lips were tinted blue.

"Daniel!" She keyed in her com unit. "Have the General send a medical team. It's not good."

Teal'c was kneeling next to her pulling out the emergency medical supplies. They had to stop the bleeding from his neck wounds, helpless and clumsy not knowing which wounds to treat first.

In Jack's mind he heard those same words spoken over again, the same voice. Was it going to happen again? He had no energy to fight he could feel what life he had left dripping out of his neck. It was becoming impossible to breathe, the pain of shattered ribs familiar. Was someone sitting on his chest?

"Don't try to talk sir; you've been injured, just lay still."

Again the same words, the same voice, different surroundings. "Goa'uld" he managed to whisper, but was it a statement or an accusation?

To Teal'c and Sam it was an eternity before Janet and a team of medics

came running towards them.

"Oh, g-d." Daniel gasped a hand to his mouth as he looked at the inert figure of his friend. Jack was so pale, so lifeless, even worse than when they had found him in Antarctica. His face and neck were smeared, his chest caked, the rest of him stained with and reeking of the copper scented blood.

Janet assessed the wound, from all signs he was at least Class III on the hemorrhage and blood loss scale. She had to get the bleeding stopped. It wasn't all from the neck wound as much as he was bleeding internally.

The Colonel was in tachycardia, the blood loss was at least 2000cc and from all other signs he had a flailed chest, the chest wall no longer rigid due to the broken ribs was sagging and collapsing his lung. .. She intubated him the spot, Sam taking over the duties of the Ambu bag breathing for her C.O. The chest tube would have to wait till they got him back to the SGC; at least she hoped it could.

Captain CJ O'Conner, her best triage nurse, had two units of O-neg going and was already inserting the large bore needle for the Ringers lactate. They had to bring his nearly non existent blood pressure back.

The two specially trained paramedic S.F.'s carried the Colonel to the awaiting Stargate.

Jack coded twice before Janet and CJ had him stable. Six more units of blood were on board and the necessary drugs to bring up his blood pressure and maintain it. The lung was re-inflated, the ribs were pieced back together, and the x-ray of the face showed multiple fractures through the infraorbital and zygomatic arches.

The Colonel could wait a day or two to stabilize before she brought in the plastic surgeon, for consultation as the swelling would have to subside to get a clear idea of the extent of the injury and if surgery was going to be indicated. Didn't he have enough scars?

Daniel brought Janet and C.J. fresh coffee as they both sat back and allowed themselves a few moments to relax.

"What caused all the blood loss?" Daniel asked winced at the details he knew he didn't want to, but had to hear.

"They were as much puncture wounds as they were tears, and right over the jugular vein. Our Colonel was lucky you rescued him when you did. If he had lost anymore blood. . . ." Janet shook her head.

"But we didn't rescue him, he broke out of that castle himself. "

"With that great of a blood loss, and a flailed chest I don't think so Daniel." C.J. added, too tired to keep up the pretense of formality.

"No, he shot his way out; I mean we don't know what happened until he wakes up. Can I . . . ." He gestured out to the ward where Jack had been settled.

"There are chairs waiting for you." Janet smiled knowing that the rest of the Colonel's team would begin their vigil.

"I'll be in to check on him, and you." CJ put a hand on Daniels arm affectionately as he walked past her. She stretched out all five foot four of her body in a tired yawn, scrubbed a hand through her unruly curly blond hair, and let her eyelid close on cornflower colored eyes.

* * *

The day stretched into night. Jack slept and his team sat vigil. The few times he stirred it seemed he would break through the veil of darkness and reach up to the light of lucidity. But each time he would moan in anguish, bitterly repeating one word, no, and would fall short of consciousness.

The neck wounds had been severe; deep puncture wounds over the jugular vein and though Janet had stitched his torn neck up as neatly as possible, the fact remained that it looked as if he had been systematically attacked by an animal. They had taken him of the respirator soon after the initial surgery because of the massive trauma to the left side of his face. If it wasn't for the fact he was breathing well on his own Janet had contemplated performing a tracheotomy but how could she put another hole in him?

Teal'c as always had taken up near residence at the side of the bed, waiting in Sphinx concentration for any signs of consciousness from his Tauri friend and would only leave when his need to Kelnoreem became imperative. Daniel had gone off to sleep in on base quarters. Sam had relieved Teal'c for a short time. When she thought no one could see she touched Jack, just a quick touch of his bare arm, to feel the warmth of his flesh, the understated muscular strength.

"I'm here sir." She whispered tracing an old scar on his right upper arm, from the trinium arrow Tonane had shot through the wormhole. Jack's heart rate suddenly increased. "It's okay sir." She tried to reassure but his heart rate continued to speed up from 64 beats to 180 climbing to 200 as he opened his one eye and focused on her.

"No." He gasped and convulsed, the alarm going off on the heart monitor.

Janet was in the room, and pushed Sam away quickly checking out his vitals and injecting another dose of pain killers. Before she had to resort to full Code Blue, the Colonel stabilized, his heart rate faster than normal for him but within a tolerable range. Janet tried to reassure Sam that Jack would be okay, but she looked like she had been slapped. The blonde Major left the infirmary confused and dejected

* * *


	4. Chapter Four

**Dark Embrace Chapter Four **

Day two and CJ had the early shift; actually she was just an early riser, and the fragility of the Colonel's condition made her more wary. With his history, and she had read his file, he had to be watched closely. One thing he was infamous for his was his Houdini tricks, slipping out the infirmary before he was completely well.

She recognized the M.O, it was similar to what she had seen and studied during her nurses training and psychiatric internship. Most of her medical career so far had been spent in V.A. hospitals, when she hadn't been on the front lines during Desert Storm.

Warriors like O'Neill and all the Viet Nam vets she knew were the same, Delayed Stress Syndrome was the hidden enemy they fought daily whether conscious or unconscious of the battle. Hell, what he had put himself through and been through, he could be the poster boy for post traumatic and delayed stress syndromes. Regardless of how handsome and heroic he was he was still a man, albeit a very extraordinary one, but a man, flesh and blood and heir to all the weakness and sufferings of his humanity.

"Oh crap!" His bed was empty and the IVs were dripping on the floor. The rat bastard had gotten loose. CJ had to spring into action.

Sounding a general alarm now would be the worst thing to do. He had slipped into his commando mode; the wounded animal feeling trapped had escaped and now needed a dark place to hole up, away from all those who were perceived as wanting to harm him. In his condition he wouldn't be able to travel far and the personnel of the base would figure out pretty fast the bandaged and battered silver haired man should not be out with out a keeper.

Out in the hall she found two SF's. She sent one off to find Fraiser and Hammond. The other she took with her with specific instructions to hang back and follow her orders, two silver bars helped. A quick check of the infirmary came up empty but there were plenty of places to hide. The first room was a utility room for all the medical gear, too loud and too light. The next one revealed a door that had not been closed completely.

The S. F. stepped far enough down the hall so when he radioed for backup his voice was not heard in near the storeroom. C.J. opened the door slowly easing the light in. There were rows of supplies and shelving units, many places to hide, to hole up. This was the tricky part. She had been attacked before by vets in the throes of flash backs and still had a few scars to prove it.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

There was a slight rustling sound from the farthest corner. She motioned for the SF to fall back. CJ was tuned into the spot and her eyes became accostomed to the darkness. She could just make out a shape huddled against the wall. How this man could make it out of a bed only a day after he had nearly had total blood loss was beyond her.

She approached, lowering herself into a squat then kneeling next to him but yet not too close as to threaten him. She knew enough not to try to touch him.

"It's okay Airman. You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you. You're with friends." Her voice had become soft, soothing, and maternal.

Jack waved his hands in front of his face squinting against the invading light. Something silver glinted in his hand. Of course he'd armed himself, as many times as he had been in the infirmary he probably knew where every thing was kept. The metal was silver and probably a scalpel.

"I am not going to touch you Airman."

"Stop" He mumbled his right hand touching his neck protecting it, shielding it from an imaged renewed attack. The voice was thinned by pain and garbled by the shattered face.

"Airman, safe now, stand down. Your mission is completed." She used every tactic that had helped her with the Viet Nam vets.

His body language showed he was confused and stressed. His right hand held the scalpel while he rubbed the heel into his right eye. The left side of his face was still swathed in bandages. Sweat glistened over his forehead and upper lip, he was getting shocky again. He'd probably damaged some of the repairs Janet had made. He was mumbling now and it was in Farsi. The Colonel was flashing back to Iraq.

"Stand down Airman." She continued to sooth reaching out for him. Her hand just touched his shoulder as he was starting to make contact with her, his wounded umber eyes starting to focus on her. "That's right Airman, we got you home." CJ had her hand on his right hand with the scalpel but at that precise moment Samantha Carter dashed into the doorway, with Janet a step behind.

"Oh g-d sir." Sam gasped out taking in the pitiful huddled mass that was her CO.

"Crap." C.J. muttered as in a nanosecond she watched the Colonel lose all focus and fear and anger glared black. He lashed out, the scalpel slashing her before he could be subdued. There was no other way. CJ threw herself on top of him using her weight to hold him down as Janet injected him. He went rigid and then limp.

C.J. had him cradled in her arms now, ignoring her own injuries. Making hushing noises she rocked him gently. For a brief moment he focused on her before the drugs carried him off.

"We got ya Airman." She whispered.

"Colonel" Jack managed with the barest trace of a crooked smile

The orderlies came and the Colonel was gently returned to his hospital bed.

"Let's get you checked out..." Janet took C.J. by the elbow.

"Get him taken care of first... I haven't been here long enough to know if this was normal for him or what but that was a bad flash back." C.J continued. She leaned closer to Janet. "Keep Carter away from him. She set him off."

'Yea, we'll discuss that over getting you stitched up. You're bleeding all over the stockroom. "Janet tried to offer a smile but she read the concern in her nurse's face. She also patted herself on the back for having made the right choice when she had CJ transferred in over the other candidates.

Sam was leaning against the wall hugging herself, barely containing tears. It hurt so much to see Jack in pain. He was more than her C.O. He was a friend, a comrade in arms, the man she cared too deeply for. It seemed again her presence was not welcomed in fact it had been twice now detrimental. What had she done to bring about these reactions? Was the Colonel angry with her because she didn't get him out fast enough, kept him from being captured? Sam could not offer him comfort. She couldn't touch him if even for a moment, or gain, for herself, the comfort of touching him, physically knowing he was alive and going to make it through again. Sam left the infirmary and hid in the darkness of her lab, emitting stifled sobs as she desperately tried to pull it back in.

Janet put the final of thirty stitches in the three deep gashes, ten each, defensive wounds on CJ's forearms and hand. Daniel was trying not to watch but was fascinated with the artfulness of each stitch. He was swimming in his own guilt for he had relieved a recalcitrant Teal'c who was in great need of deep Kelnoreem, yet he had encouraged the Jaffa it would be fine for him to leave. That in itself was not unusual in the team's vigil over the injured member, but he had left his post to make a fresh pot of coffee and had fallen asleep waiting for it to finish.

This had given Jack the window of opportunity he needed to make his little nocturnal escape.

"This is going to put a crimp in my bowling night." CJ remarked looking at her right hand now expertly encased in gauze and tape.

"You okay?' Daniel asked both to Janet as he affectionately rested his hand on CJ' shoulder, the glimmer of growing attraction glistening in his azure eyes. There was also admiration in his concerned voice when he had been told of CJ's actions. There was more to the perky blond nurse than could be seen under her country fresh appearance.

'Yes, fine Daniel." CJ leaned against him for a moment and then jerked to attention when the General entered the room.

"Major, I just heard what happened." He looked at Janet with a frown and turned on her injured nurse. "Captain?"

"Sir, we have to discuss this." CJ's voice was heavy with foreboding. "In private just the three of us." She nodded to Janet.

"When you're up to it, Captain, in my office."

"This can't wait sirs." She slipped off the table and took a step towards the door.

Daniel knew he had lost any moment for intimacy but he could offer one more thing.

"General you think you could give CJ, I mean the Captain here a moment to change." It was then when the three acknowledged her blood covered uniform.

"Ten minutes the both of you." Hammond headed back to his office. It wouldn't do for the rest of the SGC to see another blood spattered uniform in as many days.


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

**DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER FIVE **

CJ and Janet arrived promptly. CJ now in a set of scrubs and a lab coat was paling but too stubborn to give into the pain now that the adrenalin had worn off. Hammond looked up at the two women, bookends nearly the same height and their collective medical knowledge and experience worth its weight in naquehda.

"Report, Captain."

"Begging the General and the Major's pardon, I need to just get this out." Her thoughts were clear and had to be precise. "I've reviewed the Colonel's medical file. I know his history. He's suffering from or will be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and Delayed Stress reactions. I've heard how he's handled everything from being impaled on more than one occasion, infested, infected and nearly made into a Jaffa. General, the Colonel is an extraordinary man who has been to more hells that you and I will every conceive of."

"We are all aware of his history Captain, go on." Hammond knew where this was heading and he didn't like it.

"Sir, Major Carter's appearance set him off. I had him stabilized and lucid. I don't think she is the actual cause but she is connected to it. Her voice set him off. Until he resolved this, for now while he is still recovering, I suggest she be kept away from him."

"Keeping any one of SG1 away from their C.O. is going to be impossible." Janet shook her head.

"Send them back to the planet to find out who did this but get them off planet for a few days. This maybe one time he doesn't need the near familial support of his team. He's got to work through this himself."

"Sir, CJ is right, I defer to her recommendations."

"The last thing he needs right now is people fussing over him. He needs them to find out who did this to him. He also needs to be given the space to come back and or face what ever it was that has traumatized him. In the Colonels case it maybe cumulative from all of his years in special ops and here with the Stargate. "

Janet's pager went off. She looked at it quickly and with just a nod from the General she left, but CJ didn't.

"General Sir, when he finally breaks down or is ready to face what ever it was, who he is going to need is you. You maybe the only person he can feel vulnerable with. I've seen your interaction, he thinks of you as a friend, a brother in arms, and you'd be the only one who can understand. It won't be a matter of pity, or sympathy that's the last damn thing. It will just be enough to acknowledge with someone who walks in the same shoes."

"Captain you're very perceptive."

"Seen it before, my father got repatriated in 1970 after six years as a P.O.W. He blew his brains out on my sixteenth birthday. I resolved then that I wasn't going to lose another vet or someone else's father. "

Hammond swallowed hard; he could have used a nurse like her at the end of his tour in country, back a billion years ago when he was young. He was damn glad they had her.

"Dismissed Captain."

The events had taken a toll on CJ too; she needed a break and suddenly had to get out and up top, out in the open air. She tried to be causal but an anxiety attack was building. Finally she arrived on the surface and bummed a cigarette from one of the S.F.'s on patrol. The funny part was she didn't smoke but leaning on a Hummer in the broad daylight centered her. She policed the cigarette butt like her father had taught her and took the long elevator ride back down the rabbit hole.

* * *

"Major, I want you and the rest of SG-1 to return to the planet. You are to take SG3 & 5 with you. I want you to find who or what captured and did this to my Second in Command. Get to the bottom of it. If it is a Goa'uld, discover the identity, make a threat assessment, and then eliminate the threat with extreme prejudice." Hammond was vehement and his usual implacable face was tight with anger. He'd had enough of the Goa'uld nearly killing his people. For once he was going to give into the desire to do some serious ass kicking. It was payback time. 

At first Sam and Daniel began to protest, instead wanting to be here for Jack but a raised hand from the General and a softening smile from him assured them.

"I'll be here." Hammond said simply.

Teal'c bowed his head in reverence to the General. The deep dark Jaffa revenge thing was well known and he had that look and that need.

"We'll be ready in 30 minutes sir." Carter's voice gained strength with each syllable. It was time she remembered she was also an Air Force officer and Second in Command of the Flagship team. Her CO had been made to suffer at the hands of unknowns and they were going to have to pay for it.

* * *

Being unconscious was not exactly as pleasant as it sounded. It was never that simple for Jack. The silent sootiness of slumber was not his, violent flashes of red spattered his twilight world of injury, and drug induced stupor like a Jackson Pollack painting. The raven wings of death and despair fluttered in his mind ripping what soul he thought he might still have left, apart. 

He could hear her voice over and over again, feel her mouth on his, tasting him, feasting off of him. It was Carter's voice at first but then it had changed to the Goa'uld timber voice of the demon that had used him.

"You are mine, forever." Over and over he heard her words and had to fight against the desire to say yes. The mixed pain/pleasure responses he experience at her hands brought waves of guilt, he had succumbed, and he hadn't done enough to prevent her manipulation. He had been weak. This realization was followed by the onslaught of the images of the murders. The two children had been prepubescent with sandy colored hair, like Charlie, his son's had been at that age. So like Charlie, innocence in their eyes, the snake's victim unwilling pawns, too young to defend against her. He should have been strong enough; he should have freed them too. The look in their eyes of terror and betrayal strafing his soul as the staff blast blew a hole through their fragile bodies.

Blood was everywhere, all over his body, on his hands, in his eyes and on his lips. Submerged in what seemed the blood of every life he had ended, he swam for the surface through the sanguine sea of despair and guilt, praying for a ray of forgiveness's light. The agonized moan started low and deep in the recesses of his flailed chest and broke free in a ragged gasping for breath as he came instantly awake and aware.

Jack clamped his eyes shut, realizing it was actually just eye as the left side of his face was swollen and bandaged over. There was light here, the comforting sounds of medical monitors beeping softly and the nearly imperceptible drip of the IV. He was in the infirmary.

"Steady son." Hammond's broad face encased in sincere concern came into focus, his Texas drawl as soft and comforting as a breeze through tall prairie grass.

"Goa'uld." He barely recognized the sandpaper tone of his own voice.

"SG-1, 3 and 5 are investigating Colonel."

"How long?"

"Since we brought you back from death's doorway, Colonel, or from your last unauthorized foray?" Janet Fraiser smiled moving in past the General and began to fuss with his IV's, a hand gently resting against his undamaged cheek.

"What?"

"We'll discuss that later. You want the short version of your injuries?" Janet had learned that the Colonel needed to get a grocery list of his injuries and the prognosis. It was his way to assess the situation and make his battle plan for recovery based on good sound Intel.

"If we hadn't got to you and pumped a few units of O-neg into you wouldn't have had enough blood left in you to live. You sustained a collapsed lung but we got that taken care of. Your ribs are back together. The CAT scans showed multiple fracture lines through the infraorbital and zygomatic arch. We won't know yet if you'll need surgery but that's why you are going to have a hard time talking. There is some impingement of your mandible, jawbone. We'll have plastic surgeon see you; we still want you as handsome as ever." She paused hoping her remark would elicit some sarcastic response but Jack was starting to withdraw from them. As to the other wounds on the torso and neck those are not healing as fast as I would like, puncture wounds are always slow to heal."

"Can you tell us what happened?" It was Hammond and he was trying not to make it feel like a debriefing.

"Noise, Zatted, Goa'uld, escaped." A dew of sweat coated the still pale skin of Hammond's 2IC as Jack labored to respond. Each word was a strain, his chest still bruised, the muscles in his neck abused and the assaulted face making each word an excruciating effort.

Hammond watched his 2IC's eye go from warm brown to the cold lifeless flat color of mud. Jack turned his head away from his commanding officer. They had lost him. Jack was going to say no more. It was all internalized now and until he was ready to talk of it, if ever, his suffering would exist as a molten flow of pain waiting for a release of pressure or the inevitable destructive eruption. Hammond would give Jack time and he would be standing there for either possibility.

Just out of the line of vision CJ knew the fuse had been lit on the bomb. There was going to be an explosion or a melt down, it was just a matter of how fast the fuse was going to burn.


	6. DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER SIX

**DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER SIX **

SG-3 took point: the Marines were good at that and while O'Neill usually wanted them watching their "Six" Major Samantha Carter appreciated them storming the beach as it were for her. It was morning on P3x-666 and the villagers were moving about conducting their lives as if nothing had transpired. There was a notable difference; a good chunk of the horror movie castle seemed to be missing.

Ivanyn greeting them anxious to hear about the silver haired warrior. Had he survived? Had he succumbed to the madness as the few survivors they had known had? And why had part of the Castle ascended into the sky just as the sun had set the very day O'Neill had escaped?

No one from the Village had thought to investigate for they believed it to be instant death, if they were lucky, to go anywhere near the castle.

"Sam, I'm going to hang back here and find out as much as I can about the Wampyr." Daniel stumbled over the word using the natives' pronunciation. The concept of a vampire, vampires, had caused dark recessed near primitive fears to run screaming for help to the modern scientific mind which was helpless to calm the anxiety, Confused and unwillingly just as frightened.

Major Lawrence already had his men set out in two squad formations, Teal'c taking the scout position in the lead group, Captain Scarpetti taking the same position with SG-5.

They were able to approach the fortification without resistance.

Teal'c stepped through the hole that O'Neill had blown in the side of the wall. It was obviously Goa'uld in construction, the only lighting barely enough to allow navigation through the corridors.

As Goa'uld structures went it was modest only taking up an acre of land, the concentric corridors leading to the central chamber or throne room of the false god. There was a prevailing stench of decay which was near gagging as they got closer and closer to the central core. A line of Jaffa bodies from O'Neill's escape left an easily followed trail of carnage. The Jaffa had a mark never seen before, it appeared to be in the shape of a bat in each forehead. Each Jaffa showed scars on their throats, puncture wounds, beside the recent fatal staff blasts.

Once in the central hall the horrific scene that greeted them even gave the Marines pause. Along the wall were bodies chained and in various states of decay. All had died as the result of puncture wounds to the neck. They had been bled to death, or rather had been fed on till they died because there was not enough blood left to sustain their lives. The bodies showed other signs of torture, repeated beating, broken and shattered limbs, and long jagged rent flesh. The same fate had been in store for the Colonel.

The massive throne centrally raised seemed to be carved from a black stone that absorbed the light. It showed the sign of a staff blast and a few feet in front of it lay the body of two Jaffa and two small children. The children had nearly been cut in two by a staff blast.

"Well this is where he shot it out." Lawrence announced running the light over the floor. The imprint of a combat boots tread in what first seemed to dried mud but Sam realized was blood.

The scene played out in Teal'c mind. The Goa'uld before the throne or in front of O'Neill the two Jaffa holding him down, the imprint of his knees in the blood covered floor. O'Neill would have overpowered one of the Jaffa, taken the staff weapon shot the other then the first and turned it on the Goa'uld. He swung his head in the direction; the small children were in the direct path.

Sam leaned against him, a hand to her mouth suppressing the need to vomit.

"Major Carter I recommend we search for any Goa'uld technology and then

destroy this place. The Goa'uld has left."

"But why Teal'c? I mean the villagers have never been a threat before and the Colonel..." Sam grimaced trying not to focus on the bodies.

"Because of O'Neill, this Goa'uld knows him for what he represents, and that is a threat to it beyond that of the denizens of this planet."

"The Colonel wasn't cattle to be fed off of." Major Lawrence commented. "We're doing a full search of what is left of this place and then we're planting enough C-4 to leave it a memory."

And so they did, SG-5 found several more chambers with rotting, decayed, or skeletal remains. It appeared their vampire Goa'uld went through one villager a month and when none were found or the supply short a Jaffa was substituted.

The side of the mountain blew out like an eruption. There would be no memory of the Goa'uld who had come to this planet. Daniels investigation had turned up more information on the mythology of the people of P3X-666.

* * *

Back at the SGC Daniel groped for the words. His best friend and the closest thing he had to a brother/father still lay slipping in and out of consciousness in the infirmary. It was easy to understand Jack being wounded from, weapons fire; injuries sustained in battle even the occasional aliens "poking him full of holes." However, to now have a picture of what had been done to him by a vampire Goa'uld was devastating. It was only heightened by his acquaintance with the myths of Romania/Transylvania and other cultures who believed in demons that drank blood. Jack had endured tortures before but to be drained of your life by the sucking of ones blood, dying incrementally seemed even more than one of Jack's resolve could endure. 

Major Lawrence had already detailed how there was no sign of the Goa'uld which substantiated the story told by the villagers that a portion of the castle flew off into the sky. Also, he detailed the body count including the two small children.

Teal'c, kept his suspicions to himself, yet his heart was suffering from a misery more acute than any physical pain. If his assumptions were correct, it had been O'Neill who had killed the two children. Causing the deaths of innocents was an act that any warrior of honor would bear with shame and one such as O'Neill would never forgive himself for.

"Sir, from what Teal'c has told me, and from what I can piece together from the people, this Goa'uld is a Vampire or at least vampirish. It needs, well actually, she needs blood to sustain her, nourishment, and it might also be the way that Camazotz controls and enslaves. Ivanyn told me that within several hundred miles of the castle that people would go missing, at least one a month. Usually it was the strongest or anyone thought to be a threat. There were also children who went missing."

"This is the way of many Goa'uld. They would destroy those who are a potential threat and demoralize the others into subservience." Teal'c announced with his usual stentorian emphasis.

"Yes, and if you are submissive then the losses will be contained to what this Goa'uld would need to survive." Sam interjected.

"Camazotz was the bat god but was initially thought of as a helper to mankind." Daniel injected.

"Yes, but Dr. Jackson, other of the Goa'uld have taken on the persona of gods and were thought to be benevolent, such as Hathor, we learned differently." Hammond tried not showing his revulsion at that memory but failed miserably. Hathor had appeared on the doorstep of the SGC, having homed in on the Stargate, and seduced with her beauty and pheromones that she emitted, ever man on the base. It has been only the resourcefulness of a handful of women, lead by then Captain Carter and Dr. Janet Fraiser that had prevented their enslavement.

Daniel's head shot up from his notes, those were memories he didn't want to recall either. It was now that he had to drop his bomb. "Ivanyn told me that the demon was female and described as possessing a beauty that was hypnotic and could control any lover." This was similar to what Hathor was capable of and what she had nearly accomplished. He had almost been the father of a new generation of Goa'uld and Jack Hathor's first new Jaffa. Daniel felt his chest tighten at the prospect remembering how Hathor had seduced him, assaulted him for his DNA. He had been violated while chemically controlled and unable to resist her. It had taken him weeks of counseling to come to grips with his "rape." What had Jack been through? Was it Hathor all over again?

"Daniel with what you have ascertained about this creature, it would seem that her plan for the Colonel was something other than using him to feed from. He was her captive for, what, less then twelve hours; to have drained that much blood from him . . . if she wasn't trying to kill him, what was she planning?" Janet questioned.

"Kill him or bring him to a state close to death when he was too weak to resist?" Hammond suggested.

"Well, that may be true but Camazotz didn't count on running into someone like Jack." Daniel remarked which brought knowing smiles from the assembled.

"Doctor, other than his obvious injuries, is there any other underlying medical condition, infections, any type of alien viruses?" Hammond asked his voice clouded with concern.

"Thankfully no, sir, the Colonel is just exceptionally weak. He's stable. He's not going to be able to do any talking for awhile because of the facial injuries. He needs his rest and solitude. I am moving him to one of the isolation rooms and limiting his visitors." Janet closed her file after flipping through it one more time.

"Janet?" Sam protested.

"This time, Sam..." Janet paused exchanging a nearly imperceptible conspiratorial look with Hammond. "I want him quiet. The facial injuries are serious and though nothing has shown yet on the scans, we always have to worry about trauma to the brain. Also, the severe blood loss has him very weak and susceptible to respiratory complications. Remember the Colonel was as close to being bled dry as a human can be without complete systems failure."

"Dismissed." Hammond knew when enough was enough. Janet stayed behind.

"Other than he can't talk very well, he isn't talking sir." She answered her commanding officer's unspoken question. "I have CJ watching him like a hawk. You might want to put an S.F. in the general vicinity." She clutched her file to her chest, sighed, and smiled weakly as she left.

Looking out the observation window to the silent gate, Hammond muttered an expletive under his breath coupled with a prayer.

* * *


	7. DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER SEVEN

**DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER SEVEN **

It was day four and the swelling on the left side of his face had reached its maximum and was now starting to subside. The lacerations and his chest wounds were tolerable, the weakness was not. He bore the indignity of being fed through an IV but he was going to have to get used to a liquid diet Jack had hit a level of apathy. He didn't care if he got better fast, it didn't matter. Every time he fell asleep the stalking eidolons of murdered children invaded and disintegrated any possibility of peace. On more than one occasion he had been torn for sleep by the ramped up keening of his own anguish erupting from his shredded throat. Each time he would fall back into the ebon pit to the echoing voice of the Goa'uld saying over and over that he was hers, forever, and the taste of blood on his lips.

Daniel had visited and presented his findings, with Teal'c hovering in the background. He was not told anything he didn't already know, other than the Goa'uld bitch now had a name, Camazotz. Teal'c did not elaborate but did explain how even to the other system lords Camazotz was found to be pariah for her unnatural hungers. This provided no comfort. Jack found, regardless of his inability to talk, that there was nothing to say, smart assed or otherwise. There was nothing he was willing to discuss. The usually kinetic Colonel was static, laying the good side of his face half buried in a pillow, marginally responsive to his environment.

Janet and those of her medical team who had been around had seen this before after the black hole incident, the death of SG10 and Colonel Cromwell. Too many ghosts and millstones of guilt had tossed the Colonel into the depths of depression. More burdens, more crosses, Jack had found placed upon his broad shoulders by circumstances and his own self-imposing.

Carter was conspicuous by her absence. Though when she thought no one was watching she would steal down from her lab and hover. If she approached the Colonel it was when he was asleep. Once she was present while he dreaming. He had muttered her name in agony, followed by the repeated uttering of the word no even lashing out, nearly pulling out the IV's, desperate to fend off remembered attacks on his throat. Carter had slunk off silently smothered in rejection.

Nothing Daniel said could elicit a response from him. He had nothing to give. He was tired, drained, a battery running low. Janet had been patient but decided to slip him a tranquilizer to help him sleep. Half a milligram of Ativan in his IV and perhaps, he would get some real healing sleep.

Her plan worked for a few hours and then the drug wore off and the haunting returned. CJ had made herself a shadow in the background, a sentry watching and waiting for the fissures to appear in the defensive walls. Jack was thrashing about the bed as if seizing, sweat soaking the sheets under him. CJ was there, mopping his brow, whispering softly.

"Its over Airman, your mission is over. No more threat."

Jack woke to the soothing sensation of a cold compress on his face. He opened his one good eye and looked into a face that seemed familiar. A face he'd seen before with that same look of cultivated professional compassion.

"Hurt you?" He asked remembering a dark room, pain and lashing out at someone, thinking it was Camazotz but it had only been Carter. That was the chaos. The voice that had seduced him had been Carter's, even though he knew better now, even though he had heard the Goa'uld timbered voice later from the same entity. Somehow she had used his own private thoughts and desires against him, the illusion had been of his own making. He had to make the distinction.

"You weren't exactly yourself, sir." CJ smiled.

"Airman?" He tried to smile but only one side of his face responded. The trauma to the infraorbital nerve had caused some temporary paralysis to his cheek muscles.

"Yes, well flashbacks don't care about ranks sir."

Jack tried to smile but it hurt.

"Hurt you?" He asked again taking her bandaged right hand, it was both a way to get her to answer and an apology.

"The stitches will be coming out in a week. Don't worry about it sir, it's part of the job."

"So, back with us again, Colonel?" Janet asked stepping into the room. She received a reassuring nod from CJ who knew it was time for her to leave.

"Think you're up for a trip to the Academy Hospital? We need to have a specialist look at your face and see if you're going to need surgical intervention. You may have to have your jaws wired shut for a few weeks."

Jack flashed her look of absolute shock.

"No Fruit loops and you'll be eating your steak through a straw. That's the worse case scenario. If you think you are up to it I can get an orderly to get a wheelchair and help you get dressed."

"Dress myself." He hissed struggling to sit up. He lifted his left arm to her indicating the IV's. Janet smiled and began to disengage the tubes and needles.

"I thought you would, I'll get your uniform." The Chief Medical Officer took his right hand "Are you sure about this?" her tone now that of a friend. Jack nodded carefully and squeezed her tiny healing hand in his. Janet pulled the privacy screen around the bed and delivered up the complete set of blue class d's she had had retrieved from his on-base locker.

The act of getting dressed was agony but once dressed and back in uniform Jack felt in touch with reality again, rescued in the security of his military persona, the comfort of the uniform giving him back his identity. Maybe it brought some confidence back with it. He had to get over this. How was this Goa'uld torture any different from what he had endured before, at the hands of the Iraqi, or Apophis?

Janet made CJ the Colonel's personal escort; she would follow shortly. Jack decided on a side trip before they went topside. General Hammond was pleasantly surprised and distressed to see his 2IC back on his lanky if not somewhat wobbly legs, at his office door. Jack already lean, now appeared gaunt, his skin color was still too pale where it wasn't displaying a palette of bruised colors. There was no confidence in his carriage; the word frail came to mind, a term Hammond would never have associated with Jack.

"Debrief." Jack forced the words out through his clenched teeth.

"Colonel I know it hurts and it's damn near impossible to talk. You can just write it out."

Jack offered a weak smile but the one brown eye twinkled with amusement. Hammond's heart warmed, he could see the veils falling away and Jack returning.

Jack wrote it quickly and concisely, leaving out the seduction and the Goa'ulds declarations of possession. He fumbled and struggled over the details of his escape. Hammond could see the agony as the words went to paper and became record. The pen was slammed down and Jack retreated with as much speed as he could muster. His nurse escort shot a quick glance over her shoulder to the General and then down to the handwritten report.

Hammond closed his office door and requested to not be disturbed while he read over the Colonel's report. It was a good decision for what had been written had been a hard read. Now he understood why Jack was torturing himself. He remembered once how Jack had told him that one day he would ask him to buy back his soul, it seemed that time may have arrived.

The X-rays and been positive for severe damage, Jack was going to have his jaw wired shut for a duration of six weeks to allow the bones of his face to heal without further damage to the surrounding tissue, the eye and the nerves. Eating through a straw was more agreeable than an IV or a stomach tube, having no choice Jack resigned himself to the procedure. Jack spent three more days for further recovery in the SGC infirmary before he was sent home to a refrigerator stocked with food supplements of every flavor.

It was his second day home, alone, when he woke with a narcotic hangover. Old Doc Fraiser had given him a bucket full of painkillers, which she hoped he would take, but expected he wouldn't. She had been half-right. It wasn't so much the pain, he'd suffered worse for much longer, it was the continuing nightmares. As if his prior ghouls had not been enough, but now to have these new ones added to the horror film library of his memories was shaking him.

The trace memories of Camazotz's flesh against his, how his body responded to the exotic ministration of her talent mouth kept him from other rational thought The confusion caused by the desire to revisit the pain/pleasure he had experienced with her disgusted him. Maybe, he had been held captive once too often and this episode was the one that had broken him. No, he wouldn't let that concept survive, he strangled it quickly. Yet, he could still feel her touching him. He could still taste blood, his and hers. Camazotz's blood had been hot and sweet like cayenne-spiked honey and his had been salty and metallic, combined they had been savored and sickening.

And there was always the voice, her voice, at first Carter's dulcet tones and then the transformation into the hideous vibrato of a snakehead. He heard it when his mind got empty, when ambient noise seemed to be at their softest, when he closed his eyes trying to breathe without pain. Jack knew he shouldn't be abusing the drugs; it was not like he was doing it to get high, just an escape, to give himself enough time to heal, to sort everything out. If he stayed drugged and stuporous all of his specters were held in check, left to maraud through his waking thoughts when he could more efficiently deal with them.

Sitting on his sofa Jack crushed up two more pills, dissolved them in a shot glass of the water, and then sucked the slurry up with a straw. Next he held his right hand in front of him. There was the slightest tremble, just like when he got back from Iraq; he was the only one who seemed to notice. The sudden ring of his doorbell dragged him out of what was going to be a good wallow in self-pity. At his door were the three members of his team, Jack had no choice but to let them in. Teal'c would have no second thoughts of breaking down his door if left unanswered.

"Jack!' Daniel pointed out the obvious and he led the other two into Jack's home.

Carter kept silent, nervous to speak around him. Teal'c gave him a quick head bow as he clutched on to a large box. "We brought you some surprises." Without approval Daniel led Teal'c into kitchen. He began to empty the contents of the bag he carried several container of ice cream of many flavors were neatly placed in Jack's empty freezer followed by a gallon of milk in the refrigerator. Teal'c revealed the last surprise, a blender that looked like it had been developed by NASA. Carter assured him it could liquefy naquedah. Jack couldn't laugh but snorted in amusement realizing they were desperately trying to please him; they did not need to share his pain.

Jack tried to smile but muscles and healing nerves were not playing along. He sat back; an observer, as two scientists and a Jaffa made a mess of his kitchen with their dairy versus blender experiments. He had sat wordless though Daniels dissertation on vampires. No jokes about old Horror movies and men in tuxedos or TV shows, just slight head nods and weak smiles. The painkiller tugged at him and he drifted off to sleep content in knowing his team was happy watching over him.


	8. DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER EIGHT

**DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER EIGHT**

For the first two weeks Jack recoiled at any touch. It was not their normal Colonel who usually was there for a gentle touch to reassure others. His silence was more than from the wired jaws. C J has watched as the silver haired warrior had flinched at Major Carter's voice. There was also his unconscious touching of his neck, a hand resting over the wounds as if to protect his scared neck. Once, Jack had been a figure held in awe and respect but now he was battered and bruised, physically and emotionally and the entire SCG suffered from his diminished presence, his restored health anxiously awaited.

Daniel and Sam hoped their good-natured teasing would bring their CO out of the shadows. It did or for appearance sake it seemed that it had that effect on him. But the lingering ghosts were there: the same gray shadows they had seen after Cromwell died, after the reporter was run over, when he had pretended to go bad so he could expose an NID covert group, the signs that Jack had paid some big price again, another dent in his armor, another windmill or dragon tilted at could not be dismissed. Even after the bruising had disappeared dark circles remained under his eyes, from lack of sleep, pain and the some unspoken torture. They were not aware of Jack's frequent dreams wherein he was again making passionate love to Camazotz in the guise of Sam, allowing her to feast off his blood, and she would feed him hers.

By week four he ran out of painkillers, a prescription that should have lasted at least two more, gone. Jack had done the strapped down to a bed, screaming thing and wasn't going to do it again. There would be no more painkillers, he would just have to add these new nightmares to his collection and move on. True to his personality, the wounded animal crawled off alone to suffer and heal. A weekend at the Minnesota cabin and the throes of withdrawal were handled alone while sitting on the dock staring at the pond that had no pesky fish. Jack spent the time exposing himself to the elements to cleanse away the traces of the Goa'uld. Other time was spent curled in a ball damning that snakehead bitch for tainting those special images of the cornflower blue eyes, golden silk spun hair and succulent peach lips of a specific Air Force officer that he cared too much for; desired too much; denied himself of. The throes of withdrawal purged Jack's unnatural lust for Camazotz along with his bodies craving for the painkillers; at least he prayed it had.

Upon his return to the SGC Hammond found Jack busy work, planning missions, reviewing new candidates from the Academy, and other administrative duties assigned to the Second in Command of the SGC. If he didn't get himself court marshaled or killed Jack, was Hammond's most likely successor and it was times like this when both were reminded of that fact. During this time the rest of his team chose other endeavors. Carter had spent her down time working on a book, Daniel was off overseeing several digs on various planets, and Teal'c was with his son Rey'ac All distancing themselves from Jack, waiting for the signal, a smile, a touch from him to declare his completed recovery.

By week six Jack had been finally able to disassociate Carter's voice with the nightmares of Camazotz and was anxious to return to full duty and O'Malley's for a celebratory steak once his jaw was unwired. Milk shakes, protein drinks, food supplements, and beer had been a steady and mostly healthy diet for as many weeks and now the thought of a bowl of oatmeal was elevated to a level reserved for pheasant under glass. He had lost weight and had moved from lanky to gaunt. Jack had remained under the close scrutiny of Janet and CJ for any signs of a melt down. Janet hoped that it wasn't going to happen and that the Colonel had once again beaten it. CJ was impressed but not convinced. Hammond was waiting for the other combat boot to drop.

Hammond watched the boot hit the deck when Jack had erupted on a nurse for delivering the news that surgery for the removal of the wires in his jaw had been delayed for a day. The temper, that was usually restrained, was freed in jaw clenched rapid-fire profanity causing the nurse to flee in teary-eyed fear. Jack had knocked the files off his desk and then turned the heavy desk over before he had stalked out of the SGC. As he drove off he had nearly run over a SF in his speedy getaway. It was time Hammond knew to make an unscheduled visit to his 2IC at home.

The sky was a sable blanket spattered with twinkling stars, stars which had worlds orbiting them, which had star gates on them, that had Goa'ulds occupying and enslaving the inhabitants. Their job was out there. But for this moment he was only concerned with Earth's sole moon, which was full and seemed to illuminate the roof of Jack's house as he pulled his personal car into the driveway.

Hammond climbed the ladder and spotted Jack sitting on the deck his back against the railing, a full bottle of Irish whiskey in his left hand and his 9mm Beretta in the other, both arms across his knees which were pulled up against his chest

"Jack?' George asked sitting down in the one chair at the telescope.

"Can't decide which one I want more." Jack held up each as if to show them for inspection, his voice languid, without hope, spoken through his clamped teeth.

"What did you leave out of your report?"

Jack cocked his head and tried to look innocent. It wasn't going to work; he shook his head knowing that the Hammond had been on to him since they had brought him back out of retirement after Apophis had invaded the SGC.

"She seduced me, used me." It was a pained whisper. "Made me think it was someone else." A jagged breath and he continued. "She wanted to make me her First Prime." He scrubbed the hand holding the sidearm through his gray hair, then held the cool black metal to his temple.

"Go on."

"Said I would always be hers, she'd tasted me, drank away my strength and resolve," Jack paused, barely ready to accept the truth of his next sentence. "It was different from Iraq. Part of me was ready to give in to her, wanted to."

"She was killing you Jack, bleeding you to death."

Jack rubbed the heel of his right hand into his eye, still clutching the sidearm. "I turned the staff weapon on her. I never saw the kids. The bitch used three kids as a shield. I killed! Jesus! I murdered two of them." His anger, disgust, and bottomless quilt could barely be contained behind his wired jaws.

Hammond reseated himself to Jack's left and took the bottle from him.

"We bombed and strafed innocent villages full of women and children in 'Nam. All because someone back in Saigon thought there might be VC there or they needed to up the body count for the stateside network news." Hammond took a deep swig. "You tried not to think about it, denied it was happening. The only difference Jack is you saw the faces. I did it with a push of a button, detached impersonal, until you saw the carnage you created with a bomb or missile you didn't accept responsibility, you were arrogantly indifferent." The General up ended the bottle again. "Then one day I was in a village and held the mutilated bodies of two little girls about the same age as my grand daughters. Killed by our bombs, the bombs I was dropping. They were someone's grand daughters and our bombs had . . . ." Hammond could say no more. No description was necessary.

Jack slipped the safety back on the Beretta and set it down on the deck. Hammond sighed and shared the moonlight with his 2IC. The bottle and the Beretta ignored as each man pondered their personally perceived horrors. Hammond's simple admission had been the down payment on the purchase price for a silver haired Colonel's soul.

**EPILOGUE I**

The interloper and her minion were gone. The silver haired stranger, who had stepped through the shimmering circle of water, had caused it by his heroic escape from her clutches; He had seen and heard it all. She had panicked, knowing the stranger represented other off worlders that would not submit so easily, who could and would bring about her destruction.

The planet was his again, and he had a thirst that needed to be quenched. Taking to wing he flew through the night to seek his prey. The village elder stood waiting for him in the central square, alone and illuminated by the moonlight.

Ivanyn, as his forefathers had done centuries before, bared his throat and submitted to the precise bite. It was the way of their world, a gesture of good faith between the two species; one would submit, the other would only take as needed when other prey could not be found. Once again Ivanyn and his people would rebuild the herd of cattle that the Opyr would feed on.

He released the young man from his embrace when he was just sated. It was good that his people could again be free to walk the nights. Perhaps if the silver haired warrior ever returned he would have to thank him, he would know him instantly by the scent and taste of his blood. But would the warrior understand? He turned and bowed to the villager, in silent thanks. His eyes glowed red as he melted into the darkness alive and free again.

**Epilogue II**

The need to escape was a set back, but one easily recovered from, it was perhaps the impetus she had needed to begin her return among the System Lords. She had to reclaim her rightful standing and no longer be exiled to the backwater planets. And he had been the one she had waited for.

As her ship traveled in hyperspace Camazotz stretched out languidly on her throne, waiting to feed. Her faithful Jaffa knelt in front of her and offered his neck to his Queen. She sank her fangs into his throat and drank her fill. The Jaffa blood, while hot and fresh could not compare to the taste of the silver haired Tauri. Oh, yes she knew of him, O'Neill, killer of Ra and as he had told her of her ancient enemy Hathor. There would come a day, soon when she would reclaim him, he would stand at her side and see their children being implanted in her new

Jaffa army. Already, she could feel a new generation gestating with in her.

Now, she would have to find a new base of operations from which she could send out her Jaffa to gather their brothers to her. Once brought to her she would have their symbiotes destroyed and replaced with her offspring. Camazotz would reserve the strongest for O'Neill. Her hosts' body throbbed with the recalled sensation of their merged bodies, his mastery of the fragile wanton human body and the pleasure he had given it.

He would always be hers. He had drunk of her blood; never would he lose the hunger for its taste. O'Neill would one day come to her, to be hers again, his mouth anxious to taste all of her. It was only a matter of time till he was again in her dark embrace.

Finis

SEQUEL IS CRIMSON MADNESS NOW BEING WRITTEN!


End file.
